As I Am
by Metropolis22786
Summary: Songfics from different POV's. Pyro, Cyclops, Magneto, Wolverine, Rogue, Storm, Jean, Angel, Beast. All songs performed by Dream Theater. I own nothing. X3 spoilers in some of the chapters.
1. As I Am: Pyro after the Museum

St. John Allerdyce slammed the door to his room and angrily threw himself on the bed. So much for the field trip to the museum being fun. He dug his CD player out from under the pile of comics on the dresser, next to a small collection of cheap plastic lighters. Jamming the earphones into his ears, he cranked up the volume and tried desperately to lose his anger in the music.

His choice was fairly ironic. The black disc in the player began to spin, and an odd sounding chord faded in, louder and louder until-

The bass harmonics. He smiled to himself, a smile of resignation. He'd borrowed the CD from Kitty, on pain of death if he ever told anyone she liked progressive metal and not pop.

The guitar screamed in after four bars, and Pyro winced. The whole intro was a sonic assault, but he wanted it, craved it, needed it.

_Don't  
Tell me what's in,  
Tell me how to write  
Don't tell me how to win  
This fight  
Isn't your life,  
It isn't your right  
To take the only thing that's_

_Mine  
Proven over time  
It's over your head  
Don't try to read between the  
Lines  
Are clearly defined  
Never lose sight of  
Something you believe in._

He actually listened to the words for the first time, thinking that they were fairly applicable to his current situation. Dragged out of the museum by a furious Jean Grey for causing a scene at the cafeteria in the museum, when some snotty punk snatched his lighter off him. He got his lighter back, but decided to teach him a lesson. He'd caused the glowing tip of the cigarette to consume the entire thing, and the flare had scared the living shit out of him. Bobby, good old I-want-to-impress-Rogue-at-every-possible-opportunity Bobby, had put the fire out by slathering the guy's face with ice. That had been, at that point, possibly even funnier than his shocked expression when the cigarette exploded.

Then the entire museum just froze. Stopped in its tracks. He, Bobby and Rogue were the only three people at that point who were moving. Rogue broke the silence, asking what he'd done. Bobby whispered that he hadn't done anything. Then the worst possible thing happened. Professor X wheeled up, and condensed an hour's worth of shouting into less than ten words.

"The next time you feel like showing off, _don't._"

_Takin' in the view from  
The outside  
Feeling like the underdog  
Watching through the  
Window I'm on the outside  
Living like the underdog  
I've been trying  
To justify you  
In the end  
I will just defy you._

His attention had been caught by a television screen, showing CNN describing a mutant attack on the President. He'd immediately made everyone leave. The last thing they needed was for a lynch mob to form just because he'd had a bit of fun with an ignorant jerk.

_To those who understand  
I extend my hand  
To the doubtful I demand  
Take me as I am_

He idly wondered why mutants couldn't just be accepted by society. _Duh, because society hates anything that's different or doesn't conform to MTV,_ said an inner voice, berating him for his momentary slip.

_Not under your command  
I know where I stand  
I won't change to fit our plans  
Take me as I am_

He just wanted to be left alone, to be _himself_. Was that really too much to ask of the world?

_Still  
Running uphill  
Swimming against the current  
I wish I weren't so  
Fucked  
Feel's like I'm stuck  
Lost in a sea of mediocrity_

"_Slow down,  
You're thinking too much  
Where is your soul?"  
You can not touch  
The way I  
Play  
Or tell me what to say  
You're in the way  
Of all that I believe in_

Maybe… maybe there was some other way. Maybe… dare he even think this? _Maybe Magneto had been right._ Maybe there was just no way that humans and mutants would ever live side by side in pace, love, rainbows and butterflies.

Pyro rolled over and snorted.

_Takin' in the view from  
The outside  
Feeling like the underdog  
Watching through the  
Window I'm on the outside  
Living like the underdog_

But then, that's what they were, wasn't it? Underdogs? Denied their basic rights as citizens in a land where supposedly each person was allowed to pursue Life, Liberty and Happiness? Watching through a theoretical window, unable to get a job because of a bad hand Lady Luck dealt you? Unfashionable DNA manifesting powers which meant that you could control Man's oldest friend and enemy? Fire, which had warmed, comforted, and killed? It just wasn't fair!

_I've been wasting my breath  
On you  
Open minds will descend  
Upon you_

Too right! He thought.

_To those who understand  
I extend my hand  
To the doubtful I demand  
Take me as I am  
Not under your command  
I know where I stand  
I won't change to fit our plans  
Take me as I am_

_To those who understand  
I extend my hand  
To the doubtful I demand  
Take me as I am  
_

_Not under your command  
I know where I stand  
I won't change to fit our plans  
Take me as I am_

With a final scream of feedback from the guitars, the song segued into a blistering intro for the second song on the CD. John pulled the headphones off, and swung his feet to the floor. He didn't know how, but all the anger he had stored had somehow been leeched out of him, and he was now calm again.

Well, as calm as he ever got. He pulled the CD out of the player, returned it to the case, then went in search of Kitty. He found her in the rec room, talking to Rogue (sans Bobby, for once) and Jubilee.

"Hey, Kitty, can I borrow this CD for a little longer?" he asked, fighting to keep a grin off his face. "It's just that I'm fairly new to progressive metal and I want to keep listen… oh, _crap_." He lost the internal battle. Kitty stood up, her face like thunder.

"John Allerdyce, _run._ But first, give me that CD."


	2. Disappear: Cyclops thinks of Jean

Scott Summers stood at the window of the room he shared with Jean Grey, staring at the grounds of the mansion without looking at them. His usual pair of ruby-quartz wraparound sunglasses had been replaced by his battle visor. In truth, he had not removed it in a week or so. His mind was blank, numb with grief. It was three days since the dam rupture at Alkali Lake, and he was still in shock. He couldn't wrap his mind round the fact that Jean wasn't coming home.

Somewhere nearby, a piano started playing a slow, mournful tune. It was soon joined by a guitar. A voice lifted in song, carrying the melody seemingly throughout the mansion.

_Why, tell me the reasons why  
Try, still I don't understand_

What had possessed her to suddenly take off out of the Blackbird like that? The jet was built to withstand that kind of beating. After all, it flew at ten times the speed that the water was travelling, and was able to move underwater.

_Will I ever feel this again?_

He doubted it. He and Jean had something special. He didn't think that he could ever love someone as closely and as fully as he had Jean.

_  
Blue sky, I'll meet you in the end  
Free them, free the memories of you  
Free me, and rest 'til I'm with you_

_  
A day like today  
My whole world has been changed  
Nothing you say  
Will help ease my pain_

He had had so many people try and talk to him. Professor Xavier, Ororo, Logan, and the new X-Men who had been in the jet at the time, Bobby, Rogue, and Kurt. He had shrugged them all off and muttered excuses about needing to go somewhere. He had gone for a long walk through the back woods that bordered on the property, always aware of Logan following him, although Scott had never seen him. The fall leaves, an explosion of reds, browns and golds, seemed to mock him as he walked.

_Turn, I'll turn this slowly round  
Burn, burn to feel alive again_

He couldn't even cry. If he took his visor off for even a moment, his optic blasts would lance out, destroying anything they came in contact with. He wished that he could feel alive, but some part of him had died at the same moment that Jean had been swept away by the inexorable onrush of water. Scott felt a moment of true, bone-crushing, heart-wrenching despair.

_  
She, she'd want me to move on  
See me, this place I still belong_

He found himself at the edge of the grounds, following the path he had taken the day before. A tiny, still-rational part of his mind started nagging him that he was in big trouble if he couldn't remember a short walk.

_But she wouldn't want to see me moping around,_ he thought to himself. _ I just feel so lost and alone without her here to hug._ He missed being able to hold her, pull her close, smell her hair that always smelt of coconut from the shampoo she used. He had a sudden flashback to the museum trip, just before the cafeteria incident. She was having trouble controlling her telepathy since Liberty Island, and he had noticed. When the screens started playing up, he knew that she was having another attack. He had held her close, and her telepathy settled down. It had been causing the screens to go haywire, but one embrace, and they both felt safe and secure.

_  
Give chase, to find more than I have found  
And face, this time now on my own_

_Days disappear  
And my world keeps changing  
I feel you here  
And it keeps me sane  
_

It was true. He could feel her here. Not as a ghost or anything stupid like that, but her presence, carried by him in his memories, hundreds of memories, of brighter days past, the pair of them being the first two students of Xavier's all those years ago. Both staying on to become teachers of the next generation of mutant kids, trying to instill in them the same values Xavier had instilled in them. His faced contorted, as a fond smile warred with the impulse to scream at the heavens for an elusive answer to an unspoken question.

_  
So I'm moving on  
I'll never forget  
As you lay there and watched me_

Another flashback, this time different. The morning of the museum trip. They had woken up at the alarm, and just lain there, staring into each others eyes for at least fifteen minutes, taking silent comfort in their close proximity, their unspoken affection and the psychic bond between them.

_  
Accepting the end  
I knew you were scared_

Hobbling out of the Blackbird, telekinetically stopping Kurt from reaching her and dragging her back. Holding the ramp in place to prevent another rescue.

_  
You were strong I was trying  
I gave you my hand_

She spoke to him, even as she used her power to bring the engines back online and start the vertical thrusters. Through Xavier, just so that all the kids in the back could know how much love she had for him, and how hard this was for her to do.

_  
I said it's okay letting go time to leave here  
And I'll carry on  
The best that I can without you here beside me_

The others needed him. He needed to be there for them. He realized at this point that he wasn't the only one hurting. Ororo had lost her best friend, Xavier the daughter he never had. He needed to comfort them, as well as let them comfort him. This was no time to be alone.

_Let him come take you home._

Jean seemed to whisper to him. On cue, Wolverine appeared from behind a tree, his ever-present leather jacket slung casually over his shoulder. "How ya doin', bub?" he asked gruffly.

"Better," said Scott, bravely attempting a smile. "I just needed some time. Come on, the kids need Danger Room practice." He stood up from the fallen tree he had been sitting on, and fished in his jacket pocket. Pulling out a pair of red-tinted sunglasses, he closed his eyes, removed the visor, and put the glasses on. Turning in the direction they had come from, they started their silent walk home.

--------

**Author's Note: This song is Disappear, again by Dream Theater. I own nothing from either Dream Theater or Marvel. Poor student here, please don't sue! But please give me a review.**


	3. Blind Faith: Magneto's Breakout

_Hear me, speaking  
Asking why I even bother  
Tell me, how you  
Live from day to day  
_

_With no metal within three hundred feet, _he thought. Erik Lensherr sighed, and placed the bookmark at the page he was at. Closing the book, he placed it on the table, and reflected on the journey that had ended with him, trapped, caged by the authorities, in a clear acrylic cell suspended twenty feet above ground.

_  
Take your time and look around  
Is this utopia you've found?  
_

He had thought it had been, all those years ago. As an eighteen-year-old boy who had slaved away to get the steamer fare for a one-way trip to the United States from Portsmouth, alone, after escaping the hell on earth that had been Auschwitz. He had never seen his parents after they had been ripped away from him, moments before his powers had manifested. He remembered, as if it were only yesterday, the sight of the Statue of Liberty as the boat pulled up alongside Ellis Island. He had heard stories of the Land of Opportunity, and the green statue that welcomed any traveler with her torch and tablets. He had been in awe, and came to love everything that statue stood for.

_Sick of all of this  
The suffering and we just carry on  
Isn't it time we care and lose the hate?  
Understand our fears?_

The Homo Sapiens didn't seem to think so. Even now, powerless, Erik marveled at the blinkered dichotomy exhibited by the world's most powerful government. Here they were, a land made up of immigrants, a relic of the European obsession with colonizing new lands. The old order had been transplanted, instead of being cast off and replaced. So, therefore, had all the old prejudices and fears been carried along. It was odd, that in this supposedly enlightened period, something as basic as civil rights, first for blacks, then gays, then mutants were still on the political agenda.

Erik shook his head, and chuckled humourlessly. And even now, the politicians still weren't willing to give ground. Unless you were white, rich, and conservative, you didn't have a chance at succeeding in America.

The politicians bleated on about equality, and liberty, and justice for all, but still the lynchings continued, still the mutants were discriminated against, and still the Mutant Registration Act was being considered.__

But we do all that we can  
Justify the means to an end

And that's where the man formerly known as Magneto found himself now. The means: A plastic prison cell being fed drugged food, with no chance whatsoever of any metal finding its way to him. The end?

He didn't know. Death? Life imprisonment?

Possible re-integration to society?

He snorted.

_  
Sorry you must excuse me  
I've painted my own Mona Lisa  
She's fixed everything  
Now I'm spoiled beyond my wildest dreams_

He had everything he could possibly need, except for three things:

Privacy. The damned cameras were fibre-optic, and so weren't susceptible to magnetic trickery. He couldn't even go to the toilet without someone watching. The only time they were switched off was when he was being interrogated.

Metal. They were, for obvious reasons, never going to let so much as a coin come his way if they could possibly help it.

Relief from Stryker. The man was insane. He had drugged Erik on more than one occasion, forcing him to give him details on the machine known as Cerebro. Erik had a fair idea on what Stryker planned to do with it, and his suspicions had been horribly confirmed when both him and Charles had both collapsed in the cell, knocked out by sleep gas. Erik had known true fear at that point, the memories of Auschwitz and the "Shower rooms" flooding back in an instant. __

Blind Faith we have in you  
Invisible  
Which direction do we choose  
Predictable  


Blind faith? Who had it? And for whom? He considered the question. After all, there wasn't much in the way of a social life now.

The humans, for their leaders, and their Gods. Personally, Erik was of the opinion that any god who let something like Auschwitz happen was either having the day off, sadistic, or just didn't exist.

But try telling that to the Senate. They'd have a collective heart attack.

His followers?

What followers?

Toad, electrocuted by the Weather Witch at Liberty Island, and sent hurtling into the waters. Sabretooth, who had fallen from the top of Liberty's crown after his fight with the Wolverine, smashing through the boat directly underneath. Erik doubted very much that he'd survived.

Mystique. The shape-changer. Stabbed by Wolverine after she tried to impersonate Storm and infiltrate their team. It had been sheer bad luck that she had come across the feral first, and that he had been able to smell the difference.

And that was all of them. However, he had not seen Mystique die. He still clung to a faint hope that she had survived.

Because if she had not, then it meant that his dream was finished. Mutantkind and humankind would never live in harmony.

_  
Take the streets, the beaten path  
Our system works for whom I ask  
Yeah I have it all  
The bigger house  
An iron fence to keep you out  
_

And that thought led to his old friend Charles, and his Institute for Gifted Children. A wonderful idea in principle. Such a pity it would never work. Teaching the young was a noble profession, and Erik had no end of respect for Charles for doing so, especially with mutant children, those whose powers were just manifesting. Where Charles and Erik disagreed was the philosophy behind the education. Whereas Charles was filling the students' heads with idealistic notions of integrationism and peace, Erik had been there, done that, and got the tattoo in his arm. That was the one thing Charles had never understood. The lessons of the past could never be unlearnt, but Humanity as a whole seemed to have difficulty grasping the outcome of one group discriminating against another. It seemed to Erik that for the children of the future, they would learn of two historical Holocausts, of the Jews and the Mutants.

_  
When did we all let you down  
So come Messiah show us how  
Our human spirit drowns  
Don't think you hear me now  
No sign of you around  
What is it you hope to see_

Blind Faith we have in you  
Invisible  
Which direction do we choose  
Predictable

Always. Anything the humans feared, they lashed out at. He had seen it happen time and time again.

_  
Give us something we can use  
Desirable  
Cause you've done all you can do  
Regrettable  
_

Regrettable. His actions at Liberty Island were. He had tried other ways to secure good mutant-human relations, but in the end, the only course that seemed open to him was to make humans feel what mutants felt. That, if anything would secure equal rights for mutants.

How did he saying go? "To see something from another's perspective, walk a mile in someone else's shoes."

_  
And still life pushes on  
With or without you  
We've got to carry on  
Our will, will guide us to  
A place where we belong  
Know there lies the truth  
I am the believer who gives purpose on to you  
_

Erik wondered if there was such a place. Where _did_ mutants belong?

According to Senator Kelly, the American version of Auschwitz.

But then again, Kelly had suddenly changed his outlook and become a staunch liberal, with a pro-mutant outlook. Maybe his machine _had_ worked.

_  
I don't think we let you down  
So come Messiah show us how  
Throw us a pure lifeline  
I hope that you hear me  
Too proud to be around  
There's more to us than we see now  
_

And then what Erik had deemed the highlight of the day occurred. Laurio, the guard, entered the cell through the collapsible plastic corridor with the afternoon meal. Plastic crockery, - was that an oxymoron? He'd have to think on that later. Plastic cutlery, and-

Senses awaken, perceptions shift. He almost dared to hope.

_  
Blind Faith we have in you  
Invisible_

"There's something different about you today, Mr. Laurio," he said, standing up. "What can it be?"

_  
Which direction do we choose  
Predictable_

"Sit down!" yelled Laurio, before suddenly finding himself two feet in the air, arms outstretched.

_  
Self ignorance, abuse  
Desirable  
_

"_Too much iron in the blood," _said Erik, exerting his will and dragging it out of him, molecule by molecule. It must have been Mystique. Only she would be capable and wily enough to think this up.

A red mist exuded from Laurio's chest, slowly forming into three ball-bearing sized lumps of metal.

"Never trust a beautiful woman, Mr. Laurio, especially one interested in you," he said to the lifeless corpse at his feet.

_Cause you've done all you can do  
Incredible._

And with that, Magneto walked free.


	4. Space Dye Vest: Wolverine Contemplates

_Falling through pages of Martens on angels  
Feeling my heart pull west  
I saw the future dressed as a stranger  
love in a space-dye vest_

Okay, so it was more of a white lab coat than a space-dye vest but still. She was the personification of love. An angel in a white lab coat. Normally, those were enough to put the fear of God in him, even though he didn't believe in God. They still reminded him, subconsciously, of what he was, and who had made him that way. That place and the people in it still haunted his dreams, even after all these years.

_Love is an act of blood and I'm bleeding  
a pool in the shape of a heart  
Beauty projection in the reflection  
Always the worst way to start  
_

He remembered the first time he saw her properly. His arm wrapped around her neck after she tried to inject him with something. He had caught her completely by surprise, and remembered the sudden spike in heart rate as she found herself a hostage.

He'd later found out that she was engaged to Scott, the alpha-male of the group. He was the leader, and as befitting a leader he had the best female. Not that Storm wasn't good looking, but for someone who had always seen himself as top dog, this was an unwelcome development. He could almost hear Scott talking to her, warning her off him.

_"But he's the sort who can't know  
anyone intimately, least of all a  
woman. He doesn't know what a woman  
is. He wants you for a possession,  
something to look at like a painting or an ivory box.   
Something to own and to display. He doesn't want you to be real,   
or to think or to live. He doesn't love you, but I love you.  
I want you to have your own thoughts and ideas and  
feelings, even when  
I hold you in my arms. It's our last chance... It's our  
last chance..."  
_

He'd had his chance, and blown it. She'd made her choice, and it hadn't been him. Even though it stung, he had to accept it and move on.

_Now that you're gone I'm trying to take it  
Learning to swallow the rage  
Found a new girl I think we can make it  
as long as she stays on the page  
_

Even though outwardly he was fine, and adjusted to the idea of her never coming home, inside he was roaring with the unfairness of it all. He was seeing someone, but whether or not Storm considered theirs a relationship, he didn't know. She was kind of torn up inside as well. Then again, she had just lost her best friend. They had all lost someone who was close to them.

_This is not how I want it to end  
And I'll never be open again  
_

He'd never been open before. Rogue… _Marie…_ was the only one who had ever gotten through his shields in the fifteen years that he could remember. He couldn't remember anything before Alkali Lake. Whether or not this was a good thing he didn't know. There were too many gaps in his memory, but he had grown accustomed to them, if not entirely comfortable.

_There's no one to take my blame  
if they wanted to  
There's nothing to keep me sane  
and it's all the same to you  
There's nowhere to set my aim  
so I'm everywhere  
Never come near me again  
do you really think I need you  
_

He'd tried, really he had. But it was the same, again and again. The only one he could fully rely on was himself. Classic lone wolf mentality. He had left the team behind to hunt out his past at the Lake, and failed. But then, he had also made a choice to stay with the team. He wasn't sure what had prompted this, but the thought of that man continuing his experiments was just too hateful to contemplate.

_I'll never be open again, I could never be open again.  
I'll never be open again, I could never be open again.  
_

He met Scott in a hallway. There was a small verbal confrontation. Again, befitting the alpha male, Scott had the last words.

_And I'll smile and I'll learn to pretend  
And I'll never be open again  
And I'll have no more dreams to defend  
And I'll never be open again_

"Not everyone heals as fast as you do, Logan."


	5. Wait For Sleep: Rogue waits

_Standing by the window  
Eyes upon the moon  
Hoping that the memory  
will leave her spirit soon  
_

Rogue has many memories. Not all her own. Watching her father be dragged away by armed guards, guards drinking champagne while she soundlessly screams in a tank of water, water that freezes to solid ice as she touches it, melting again when flames play from her palm. She is old, she is ageless, she is young.

She has witnessed the darkest days of humanity, hoping that this will never happen again, the innocence of growing up in a loving and caring house, growing up in an orphanage where she learnt early on that adults were all dangerous, and the kids more so. Memories of a house of laughter, cookies and piano playing. The last confuses her, until she remembers that it was her own childhood, before her abilities manifested.

She is so many people. She is Marie, and Bobby, and Erik, and John, and Logan. All their gifts, all their memories, taken by her curse. _  
_

_She shuts the doors and lights  
And lays her body on the bed  
Where images and words are  
running deep  
She has too much pride to pull  
the sheets above her head  
So quietly she lays and waits  
for sleep  
_

She has been taught techniques by the Professor on clearing her mind for sleep. She applies these now, allowing the soothing piano music to help her in this task. She suppresses each of the myriad voices in her head, and begins to slowly drift off.

_She stares at the ceiling  
And tries not to think  
And pictures the chains  
She's been trying to link again  
But the feeling is gone  
_

There are links between all the people she has touched. She finds out more about them each time she concentrates. However, tonight, mercifully, there is silence.

_And water can't cover her  
memory  
And ashes can't answer her  
pain  
God give me the power to take  
breath from a breeze  
And call life from a cold metal  
frame_

She sighs. It sums up everything she has taken, either willingly or forcefully.

_In with the ashes  
Or up with the smoke from the  
fire  
With wings up in heaven  
Or here, lying in bed  
Palm of her hand to my head  
Now and forever curled in my  
heart  
And the heart of the world_

Rogue sleeps.


	6. Learning to Live: Ororo's Thoughts

_There was no time for pain  
No energy for anger  
The sightlessness of hatred  
slips away  
Walking through winter streets  
alone  
He stops and take a breath  
With confidence and self-  
control  
_

Ororo Munroe had gone for a late wander round the extensive grounds of the mansion. Sometimes, when she couldn't sleep, she tended to her gardens. More recently, she had talked to the Professor, Jean and Scott. Such great listeners they were. Then again, a granite headstone and an eternal lamp shouldn't be expected to speak.

_I look at the world and see no  
understanding  
I'm waiting to find some sense  
of strength  
I'm begging you from the  
bottom of my heart to show  
me understanding_

She had been waiting, and begging, until she had given up on both, and made her own way in the world. She had found no strength, except for that which she didn't know she possessed. Understanding for mutants was in pitifully short supply. Then she had met the Professor, and suddenly, it hadn't seemed too bad.

_I need to live life  
Like some people never will  
So find me kindness  
Find me beauty  
Find me truth  
When temptation brings me to  
my knees  
And I lay here drained of  
strength  
Show me kindness  
Show me beauty  
Show me truth_

The Professor had risen to the challenge magnificently. His kindness: Sponsoring her to go to a teaching college, then giving her a teaching job at the mansion, imparting his dreams, wisdom and knowledge to the younger generations.

Beauty: horticulture. The gardens and grounds were hers to do with as she pleased. She had reveled in the freedom granted to her by the plants. Her abilities as a weather witch allowed her to make the greenery flourish.

Lastly, and most importantly, Truth. His truth that mutants would one day be accepted, respected and cherished for their gifts. It was still a long way off, but she had seen enough small miracles in her time at the Institute to put off her doubts. Take, for instance, Logan. The feral Canadian had been rescued from Sabertooth, and everyone thought that he was just a pain in the proverbial for the next few days while he healed. But then Rogue had disappeared, and he had been the one to find her, and try to bring her back. He'd given her his healing ability to bring her back from the edge of death on top of the Statue of Liberty.

_The way your heart sounds  
makes all the difference  
It's what decides if you'll endure  
the pain that we all feel  
The way your heart beats  
makes all the difference  
In learning to live  
Here before me is my soul  
I'm learning to live  
I won't give up  
Till I've no more to give  
_

She had made that promise to the Professor, the day Hank had visited the Institute with the news of the "cure". He had said that he wanted her to carry on his dream when he was gone. She had protested, knowing full well that she was the second in command to Scott, not just in the X-Men, but also in the school's hierarchy. He had explained his decision, and his faith in her was deeply touching.

_Listening to the city  
Whispering its violence  
I set out watching from above  
The Nineties bring new questions  
New solutions to be found  
I fell in love to be let down  
_

Post-human? Mutant? What was the correct term in this politically-correct world? It wasn't just the Nineties, though, but carrying on through to the new millennium. The Professor had tried to provide a solution to the many people who needed one, even if it was just a roof over their heads and warm food on the table. Anyone with a mutant ability, young and old, rich or poor, male or female, it didn't matter.

_Once again we dance in the  
crowd  
At times a step away  
From a common fear that's all  
spread out  
It won't listen to what you say  
Once you're touched you stand  
alone  
To face the bitter fight  
Once I reached for love  
And now I reach for life  
_

She had first hand knowledge of the fear. As soon as she revealed herself to be a mutant to non-mutants, there had been the difference. It had ranged from slight, verbal digs and pokes, to the overt, physical aggression.

She knew people who had had to deal with this kind of behavior on more than one level. Bobby had come to her, a few days after Alkali lake, and asked her why people hated differences. She had first thought he had been talking about Stryker at Alkali Lake, but then he told her about his parents and brother in Boston, and what had happened. They would not welcome him home again soon. It was this kind of treatment that really saddened her.

_Another chance to lift my life  
Free the sensation in my heart  
To ride the wings of dreams  
into changing horizons  
It brings inner peace within my  
mind,  
As I'm lifted from where I've  
spilt my life  
I hear an innocent voice  
I hear kindness, beauty and  
truth  
_

Kurt. There was another one who was innocent in all this. The attack on the last President could not be counted because he was the unwilling pawn of Stryker, hoping to engineer a war between human and mutant. She had had many talks with him after the Lake, and she had found him to be an anodyne. He would listen to her, debate with her, and then, when she thought she had won, he offered a totally new point of view that always left her thinking for at least an hour afterwards. In his own way, he too was kindness, truth and beauty.

_The way your heart sounds  
makes all the difference  
It's what decides if you'll endure  
the pain that we all feel  
The way your heart beats  
makes all the difference  
In learning to live  
Spread before you is your soul  
So forever hold the dreams  
within our hearts  
Through nature's inflexible  
grace  
I'm learning to live_

And that was what it came down to, in the end. Nature giving them gifts, and then making them adjust to the gifts, and the response to these gifts from everyone else. They all had to learn to live with these gifts, and there was no way that she would deny others the right to learn, especially when she had the tall granite column in the garden to remind her of what she had learned.

No, Ororo Munroe would keep the school open, and damn the doubters.


	7. Vacant: Jean at Alkali Lake

**(A/N - Short and sweet, as my exams are almost over. One more exam tomorrow, then I'll get the last three of these up, featuring Beast, Angel and Xavier. Enjoy!) **

It was dark. Dark and cold. Water lapped at her, enveloped her, engulfed her. The dam had broken with such fury, the water seemingly glad to be free of the synthetic, concrete wall that had held it captive for so long.

_Hey you, Hey you  
I'm right here  
Conscience fading  
Can't get through _

Fire ran through her, for eons, for seconds, until she didn't know who she was, where she was… or why she was. Her mind, cocooned against the water, kept pushing out, repeating one word over and over again.

"_Scott…"_

_Oh Lord  
Helpless  
Confused  
Head swayed  
Eyes glazed  
And mine teared  
_

She felt his presence, and followed it through the realms which are unknown to mere mortals. Her dark side had broken through, protecting her from the onslaught, but at the cost of fragmenting her mind.

Now she nudged Scott. It had the desired effect.

_She's losing control  
What can I do  
Her vacant eyes  
Black holes   
Am I losing you?_

He blasted the water with his eyes, when the water blasted back. Taking in the details of Jean, her hair much longer than he remembered, the uniform battered and torn, and the kiss, _God, _the _kiss…_

…and then there was only Phoenix, and Scott was blown away on the wind. His mental scream was heard in Westchester.

"_Get to Alkali Lake!"_


	8. The Answer Lies Within: Angel Arrives

Warren Worthington III straightened his tie, then knocked lightly on the door. The big, imposing mansion stretched away to both sides for approximately a hundred yards either side. It was a big place, bigger even than the house he grew up in. The main difference, he guessed, is that this one had seen far more happy memories than the Worthington Residence. He could just about hear music playing softly inside.

_Look around,  
Where do you belong  
Don't be afraid,  
You are not the only one_

A girl answered the door after a few seconds. Warren imagined that it had taken her that long to walk across the hallway. She was strikingly attractive, not least because her brown hair was so nicely offset by two blond streaks framing her face. "Can Ah help you?" she asked.

"Yes, I've been told that this is a training facility for mutants. I'd like to speak with whoever's in charge, please."

"That'll be Prof- Miss Munroe," she corrected herself. "Ah'm Rogue."

"Warren," he said, leaving out the surname. He didn't want these people to know that the "mutant cure" that was being distributed was made by his father's company, especially a safehouse for mutants. That was, in Warren's opinion, just _asking_ for trouble. __

Don't let the day go by,  
Don't let it end  
Don't let a day go by in doubt,  
The answer lies within  


She led him into a room where a few young teenagers were lounging about, watching television. It was showing the news, and the current item was on a Mutant breakout from the Worthington Lab in San Francisco. The replay showed a large pane of glass suddenly bulge outward and shatter as someone hurled themselves through the window outside. He plummeted down, down, _down…  
_

And then pure white wings sprang from his back, catching the air and pulling him out of the dive to skim above the crowd of mixed humans and mutants. He flew away, over the Bay, and out of sight.

_Life is short, so learn from your mistakes  
And stand behind, the choices that you made  
Face each day with both eyes open wide  
And try to give, don't keep it all inside  
_

The kids were all chattering away about the man who'd leapt from the window, and didn't seem to notice he was there. His wings twitched beneath the new harness, and the shirt and suit jacket rustled slightly. One of them suddenly swung round and stared at him. "Who're you?"

"I'm Warren," he said.

"Oh. Are you a mutant?" asked the teen.

"Yes, I am."

"What do you think about that guy then?" he demanded, pointing at the screen. "He just busted out of that window to escape the cure. Man, that was like twenty floors up. Had to have been desperate."

_  
Don't let the day go by  
Don't let it end  
Don't let a day go by, in doubt,  
The answer lies within  
_

In doubt? Well, he wasn't his father. He suddenly realized that he'd been under iron rule for most of his life, and was sick of it. His father's money had paid for one of the finest educations, and Warren had never wanted for anything. In return, Warren had had the security of knowing that nothing would happen to him.

He had always been in his father's shadow, and it was now time to step outside of the darkness. His father's reputation had protected him, but now, especially in this place, it could lead to trouble.

_Screw it_, he thought. _It's time I made my own way in life. _

"I was," he replied quietly.

_  
You've got the future on your side  
You've gonna be fine now  
I know whatever you decide  
You are gonna shine_

He suddenly had the attention of all the people in the room. The puck neatly slotted itself in one of the goals on the air-hockey table, but went unnoticed.

"_You're_ the guy?" asked the kid, in a hushed whisper. "Where are your wings?"

"Beneath the jacket."

"So it's your dad that's made this cure available…"

Warren decided to cut this off before it could go any further. "He… he caught me trying to hack them off when they first appeared when I was twelve. Ever since then, he's been trying to find a cure for my mutation. He finally found one, and he's now offering it to anyone who wants it." His voice turned bitter. "This is what he wants, for me, but every other mutant in the country, maybe even the world, will have the option, as well."

Rogue popped her head round the door. "They're having a discussion, but it should be okay to go in. What're y'all staring at him for?"

Warren left the room quickly, as a babble of voices broke out behind him. "He's the guy at the lab!" "Jumped through a window!" "_Twenty stories!_" "Angel wings…"

_  
Don't let the day go by  
Don't let it end  
Don't let a day go by, in doubt  
You re ready to begin  
_He entered the room to see an older teenaged boy, a slightly younger girl, an attractive black woman with white hair, and the Secretary for Mutant Affairs, Henry McCoy. They stopped talking as he walked in.

"I was told this was a safe place for mutants," he said, uncertainly.

"Well, it was, son," said McCoy, recognizing him instantly.

_  
Don't let a day do by in doubt  
The answer lies within_

"And it still is," said the older woman resolutely.


	9. Trial Of Tears: Beast's Journey

Dr. Henry McCoy was standing in Grand Central station, dressed in a sharp business suit, hands clasped behind his back, scanning the train departure boards. His eyes soon locked on to the name he was after, and he walked off to the appropriate platform.

_Under the sun, there is nothing to hide  
Under the moon, the stranger waits inside  
People disappear  
The music fades away  
Splashing through the rain_

_I'll dream with them one day_

The rain on the grand old roof of the station was soothing, in its own way, as he boarded the train to Westchester. He had important news to deliver to his old friend, Charles Xavier. Secretly he was delighted to have a chance to go back to the old mansion, and see who the current residents were.

_  
It's raining, raining,  
On the streets of New York city  
It's raining, raining, raining deep in heaven_

The mansion had seemed like heaven to him, all those years ago, before Xavier had had the accident that left him in a wheelchair. A fourteen-year-old boy who had one night turned blue and sprouted fur, had instantly attracted the attention of Xavier and Lehnsherr. They had removed him from school with the consent of his parents, and he enrolled at the Institute. Studying at a postgraduate level from fifteen onwards, with the added benefit of the Danger Room for exercise. It had been as close to perfect as it could get.__

I may have wasted all those years  
They're not worth their time in tears  
I may have spent too long in darkness  
In the warmth of my fears  


It was not all good, though. He had been unable to leave the Mansion during the day, as the Westchester residents were a conservative lot. He had wondered if Xavier had sited the Institute there just for his own amusement. Really, why else would someone put a mutant safehouse in a conservative area?

_  
Take a look at yourself  
Not at anyone else  
And tell me what you see_

A success story, against all the odds. After graduating from the Institute, Henry had immediately submerged himself in the world of mutant rights groups, and made deep impressions on people. His appearance was completely at odds with his intellect, and it was his soft approach to mutant rights that had attracted the attentions of high Government.

_  
I know the air is cold  
I know the streets are cruel  
But I'll enjoy the ride today  
_

The train still hadn't moved. The rain had increased, and even in the warmth of the train, he could hear it on the roof of the station.

A child on the opposite side of the train to him was sitting with his mother. He was staring at him curiously. Hank smiled without showing teeth. The child smiled back.

"You're blue," said the child, clearly. He didn't seem to be fazed by this at all.

"Indeed I am, young man," said Hank, still smiling.

"And furry."

At this, the mother turned round from staring idly at something through the window. "Her eyes grew round, and she said, "Oh, my God…"

"Madam, please do not alarm yourself," he said quickly, and clearly. "I am by no means as fierce as my appearance would suggest."

_It's raining, raining,  
On the streets of New York city  
It's raining, raining, raining deep in heaven  
_

"You're Secretary McCoy," she said, whispering. She was silent for a second, still staring, and then she moved-

-into the seat facing him.

"Can I help you?" he asked her.

"I'm scared that when Jason manifests, he's going to get thrown out of his school," she said to him quietly.

_  
I may have wasted all those years  
They're not worth their time in tears  
I may have spent too long in darkness  
In the warmth of my fears  
_

"And how, pray tell, do you know that he will manifest?" asked Hank.

"Both his father and I are mutants," she replied. "It's impossible for him to _not_ carry the mutant gene. "I suppose what I'm asking is if you know any educational facilities that won't be prejudiced against him."

_  
As I walk through all my myths  
Rising and sinking like the waves  
With my thoughts wrapped around me  
Through a trial of tears  
_

"Madam," he said grandly, "I know of just the place for him."

She smiled.

_  
Hidden by disguise, stumbling in a world  
Feeling uninspired, he gets into his car  
Not within his eyes to see, open up, open up  
Not much better than the man you hate  
_

Ha! He thought. He removed a pad from his pocket, uncapped a pen, and proceeded to write down the details of the Institute, including contact details. Tearing off the sheet of paper neatly, he folded it, and passed it to her. She accepted it with a grateful smile, and returned to her seat with her son Jason.

The train jolted out of the station, picking up speed as it ran north. Hank allowed himself to reminisce a little more about the past, and the new student that Xavier's would one day acquire.

_Still awake  
I continue to move along  
Cultivating my own nonsense  
Welcome to the wasteland  
Where you'll find ashes, nothing but ashes  
_

His train of thought abruptly returned to the present as he reminded himself why he was going to Westchester in the first place.

The Cure.

_Still awake  
Bringing change, bringing movement,  
Bringing life  
A silent prayer thrown away,  
Disappearing in the air  
Rising, sinking, raining deep inside me  
Nowhere to turn,  
I look for a way back home_

And he was returning there now, the one place in the entire world that he could truly call home.

_  
It's raining, raining, raining deep in heaven._


End file.
